Chronophobia
by the.epiphony
Summary: Precognitive dreams have puzzled mankind for centuries, no one is sure how this could work. Precogition is defined as knowing or percieving events before they happen. Can L figure out this secret? lxoc **Summary Re-written**Title Changed**This Innocence*
1. Introduction

This Innocence

Guilt by association? Guilt by probable cause? Guilt by…..truth?

_Hmmm….this is proving to be very interesting. _

He sat by his self in a barely lit room, the only light emanating from the desktop computer that sat on the floor. No lamps, no windows, nothing. Just him, the tightly locked door, and his file-filled computer.

The crouched-over man sighed.

"Well, I guess I have finally found something that sparks my interest," He smiled.

"I'm onto you, Kira."

"Light! Mom says to take out the trash!" A voice floated up the stairs and into a young man's ears.

"Ok, I'll do it in a minute!" He yelled back. God, why did _he _have to do it? Didn't they know he was busy? Nobody ever takes him into consideration. Stupid family.

He closed the notebook and carefully placed it into the secret compartment he had made himself. Nobody could find it there.

Light sighed heavily, wondering if he'd ever get to finish his criminals for tonight.

"_Heehee, you'd better hurry up, Light, or you're never going to finish," _The Death God rasped.

"Yes, I know, Ryuk, thanks for reminding me. You know, I am doing this all by myself, and it's not exactly easy. You should start pulling some of your weight," Light replied.

"_Yeah, right. As if _I _would help a human out. You know me better than that, Light," _Ryuk said. He was right, somewhat. Ryuk would never help Light with anything dealing with the Death Note. Not that Light necessarily _needed _it, but it would have been nice to have an ally.

"Yes, I know. But you should do something to make yourself useful," Light countered.

"_Well, when I feel like doing something, then you'll be the first to know," _he laughed.

"Light! Come on! The trash isn't going to take _itself _out!" Sayu's voice, once again, ascended up the stairs.

"Alright! I'm coming!" He yelled back.

He turned to Ryuk: "I'm going to be expecting it."

Light then turned and walked out of his bedroom, closing the door tightly behind him.

"Jeeze, it's about time! I could smell that thing a mile away!"

"Yeah, yeah. Go do your homework or something," he said acidly.

"You can't tell me what to do!"

The visions faded.

The girl woke up.

The girl screamed.

What the hell just happened?

Ok, well, that was just the introduction thingy. I'm going to try to update once a week, because that's the only time I can get on. Tell me what you think. Anything is accepted.

K Bye!

The.epiphony


	2. Chapter 1

I forgot the disclaimer: No, no, and no. I don't own, don't know, and won't ever. Yeah. That's right, bitches. Just kidding! I love you!

Chapter 1

Somniphobia

She woke up in a cold sweat. Gasping for breath, she slowly climbed out of her bed to walk to the bathroom. Her stomach felt like it was about to turn inside out. Without even turning on any of the surrounding lamps, she fell to her knees before the cool, smooth porcelain toilet. She could feel the vomit quickly rising up her throat, out of her mouth, and into the perfectly oval-shaped bowl; her previous meal making itself well known.

Once she felt she could no longer spew out anymore half-digested food, she wiped her mouth and slowly got to her feet. With a throbbing head and a somewhat still queasy stomach, she hesitantly made her way towards the light switch on her bathroom wall.

The light was as she anticipated; too bright for her eyes, and a perfect feed for her pounding head. She winced, shutting her eyelids sharply at the harsh light.

Once her reluctant eyes finally adjusted, she looked at her pathetic form in the mirror.

Greasy brown hair. Pale, under-exposed skin. Dark bags under forest green eyes. The occasional mole here and there, spread variously across her upper torso. Full, yet dry and chapped, lips, that seemed to be forever in a tight line, desperately trying to keep herself from throwing up again. A shaky hand found its way to the chalk-white cheek that reflected through the mirror. _I can't believe this is me now, _she thought sadly. _I didn't know it was going to be this hard. Why did I let this happen? How could I have missed all the signs? I'm supposed to be an expert in this stuff, why did I let it slip past me? _

Her current occupation as a therapist was put on-hold after her recent…._appointments. _

She felt a cold tear slowly escape from her plain eye. Marguoix didn't even bother to wipe it away. She never felt the need to anymore. Why not let the tears fall? After all, gravity had to be considered, right?

A heavy sigh escaped her tightly drawn lips, and she twisted the faucet to see water pouring itself out. She just stood there, watching the water rush out of its source, and she wondered, _How can it be so quick to escape the only place it had known? _

What? Water had not only known the pipes of the sink. What was she thinking? She was becoming too much like her patients. What the hell was wrong with her?

_It's just like a tear; whenever something is triggered strong enough, the water escapes relentlessly and without a second thought. The eye being the faucet, the tear being the water. It makes perfect sense. _

No, it doesn't, you're just delusional.

_Whatever you say._

Great, now she was talking to herself. Yes sir, definitely becoming a patient. Maybe she should sign up for therapy herself.

No, that was ridiculous. She didn't need therapy! She had gone through too many college lectures and read too many psychological books to need someone else to tell her what she probably already knew. And she definitely didn't want to pay the amount she charged her clients, that would certainly drain her bank account.

Now, what she really needed to do was analyze the strange dream. Why had it seemed so real? Like it was actually happening? Marguoix wasn't as experienced in the dream interpretation as she was in emotional interpretation, but she could give it a try.

Except not right now.

Maybe tomorrow, when she was feeling better, or more awake.

Or not having to remember that she was never going to wake up next to him anymore.

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11:56 a.m.

Margouix failed to wake at the sound of her alarm, yet again.

She dragged herself out of bed and glanced at her long forgotten alarm clock. 11:57.

She groaned slightly and clutched her still throbbing head. Why did she have this headache again?

Oh, right. The dream.

_The dream._

With realization dawning on her as the morning sun had failed to, she quickly searched her bookcases and found exactly what she was looking for.

_Dream Interpretation- The Secret _by David F. Melbourne and Dr. Keith Hearne.

She skimmed through the chapters, not finding anything that described what she dreamed. That is, until she spotted the word _premonition. _

Interesting.

She flipped to the back of the book, to where the glossary was, and looked up "premonition".

_Premonition- pre mo ni tion _

_Noun. -1. a feeling of evil to come; "a steadily escalating sense of foreboding"; "the lawyer had a presentiment that the judge would dismiss the case"_

_2. an early warning about a future event. [syn. See foreboding_

So, it had been a "warning", a "feeling of evil to come".

_Pfft. Yeah, ok, like _that _is really gonna happen. _

She laughed it off, but somewhere in the back of her head, something told her that it wasn't such a crazy idea.

She pondered the thought while she made some breakfast for herself. After all, she couldn't take any Aspirin if she didn't have any food in her stomach, it would just make her feel worse.

Marguoix sifted through the various pots and pans before deciding that she really didn't feel like cooking. So, she opted for a bowl of _Frosted Flakes _instead. But, much to her dismay, there were no clean bowls or clean spoons. And, being the lazy morning person that she is, groaned loudly and decided she would just go to McDonald's.

The deliciously yummy taste of greasy Egg McMuffins, and cheap, pulp-filled orange juice.

She couldn't wait for an early heart attack.

Sighing, once again, she dragged her sore feet into her bedroom, where she then stripped herself of the clothes she wore the day before. Searching for something decent to wear, she came across something, something she _thought _she had packed up with the rest, but apparently not.

It was one of his slippers.

Brown, like her hair, and fuzzy. Marguoix carefully held it in her pale hands. She could still make out the imprint of a foot once pressed into the inside. Her beloved's size 13 foot.

A silent tear escaped, once again. She didn't bother to wipe that one away either, like the one last night. To her, each tear she shed was like a memory of Bradley leaving her. In all brutal honesty, she _wanted _to forget him; she could not live the rest of her life like this, all of her therapy training and psychological books and lectures told her so. It just was not healthy to.

She gently placed the brown fuzzy slipper back on the floor of her closet, sighing at the memories that her tears shed…

"_How about these?" she asked him, holding a pair of navy blue slippers._

"_Nah, too blue," he countered._

_She laughed slightly while picking up another pair of forest green slippers. "These?"_

"_Nope. Not fuzzy enough," he smirked. He was really enjoying the slightly annoyed look that was slowly developing on her beautiful face._

_She huffed heavily. They had already gone through every "acceptable" slipper, as Marguoix stated it, and the only pair left were a dark, almost chocolate, brown pair that were _very _fuzzy indeed._

"_I want those. Those right there. Yup, those are the ones!" he said happily._

"_Seriously Brad? These are probably the _ugliest _slippers I have ever seen," she laughed._

"_Well, they remind me of your hair,"_

"_My hair is ugly?"_

"_No, I think your hair is beautiful, and soft, and warm, as odd as it sounds," he added._

_Once again, she laughed one of her many laughs._

"_I guess I should take that as a compliment. Thank you, Bradley," _

"_You're very welcome. And you should take that as a compliment because I love you enough to wear, in your opinion, the _ugliest _pair of slippers there is! So, yeah, take that as an oddly phrased compliment. And maybe a little insult," he said the last part faux-quietly, knowing she would hear._

"_Excuse me!" she shrieked, half joking, half serious._

"_It's okay, darling, I still love you!"_

"_I love you, too."_

I love you.

That was the last thing he had ever said to her.

The memory only brought on more tears as she rummaged through her un-kempt closet. Her search for decent clothing had ended when she found the slipper, but she could still find something to wear, couldn't she?

Finally, after what felt like an hour, when, in reality, was only about 10 minutes, she found an over-sized sweatshirt bearing the name _The New York Yankees, _and a pair of ratty grey sweatpants.

After she had gotten dressed, she walked over to the full length mirror hesitantly, not exactly wanting to see the image that would inevitably greet her, and stared.

She stared herself down as if to say, _"I dare you to say you're going to win," _and became so absorbed in her own image, that she didn't realize that her body was disappearing, as was her familiar surroundings.

She had sunken into another dream.

But how was that possible? Last time she checked, she was awake.

Can you have a nightmare while you're awake?

Apparently, there was _a lot _she didn't know about, regarding what was real, and what was not.

She was definitely in for a rude awakening. And that "rude awakening's" name was L.

Sorry there was no L or Light or anybody yet, I just wanted to set up some backround information. Kinda. Yeah. Oh, and I know I said I was going to be updating once a week, but I somehow was able to get on the computer! What a miracle! Anywho…..yeah, next chapter will _definitely _have some L in it. I pinky promise.

Toodles!

The.epiphony


	3. Chapter 2

Special thanks to Shining Nova, missssy, Guitar-Blonde-Is-A-Baka, and p3paula for reviewing and helping me understand the readers' perspective more.

A/N: to GBIAB: I know I said I'd have this chapter up a while ago, but I have been very busy with work and have been very sick, so I'm really really really really sorry!

And I think I'm going to rename the story, because this one all of a sudden doesn't seem to fit…

Disclaimer: No, I don't, so don't even bother.

Chapter 2

Oneirophobia

Marguoix found herself set inside the same dark room she had in her dream. The same strange man was sitting directly in front of the computer on the hard wood floor. In his hands was a small microphone made for computers. Marguoix, of course, was frightened. She started to panic; hyperventilating, looking around the dark room to find a way out. But, it was so dark she couldn't see anything except for the computer and the man, whose profile was only visible from the light of the computer screen.

Then, she stopped. She was breathing pretty heavily, surely he would hear her. But, not a single movement from the strange man indicated he knew she was there.

_Am I invisible? What? No! That's impossible, nobody can just _be _invisible. There has to be some logical explanation for this._

She slowly stepped toward the unsuspecting man. His shoulders were hunched over, his head slightly bowed.

_I wonder if he has back problems…_

Marguoix shook the thought from her head, she had bigger problems to worry about than some guy's back.

She took a step closer to him, peeking to the side trying to get a clear view of his face.

She gasped.

_Bradley?!_

No, that was impossible, Bradley's dead.

But he looked so much like him; the dark, messy hair, the inky black eyes, the extremely pale, porcelain skin. The similarities were so strong, she swore Bradley and this man could have been twins! Except, this person had horrible dark circles under his eyes, and that sitting position, what was that? Who honestly sat like that? And the odd way he had his thumb in his mouth, come on,how old was he, five? Bradley never did that. And he had a much better sense of fashion, unlike this guy, who wore a plain long-sleeved t-shirt and plain blue jeans.

Now, that she thought about it, the two had nothing in common, besides some of the facial features. And Bradley was much better.

His voice snapped her from her thoughts, "Watari, please contact the NPA for me, I need to confront them about Kira," he droned into the microphone.

"Of course, L," a voice said through the computer.

"Please do not leak any information about yourself. Your safety through this is crucial. I don't want anybody to know your real name," the man instructed.

"Yes, of course," replied the computer man, apparently named "Watari."

"Thank you. I will contact you again in a few days," 'L' countered. What a strange name.

Then, "L" stiffened. Marguoix could see the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand.

It seemed as if someone was watching him.

"Who's there?" he asked loudly.

Marguoix stiffened as well. Was she actually there with him in that small, pathetic room?

No, that's impossible. There's no way.

"How did you get in here?"

"Uh…" she stuttered.

"Who are you? How did you find me?"

That's when the room slipped from her vision, the floorboards blending with the walls, the man's body melting with the computer.

She was getting very dizzy, and when she got dizzy, she got sick. Marguoix snapped her eyes shut to try to block out the sickening image. It didn't do her much good, though, considering her body was now spinning, spiraling into nothing. Only one thought penetrated her mind.

_I'm going to die._

Of course, this was a completely irrational thought. But, then again, this whole experience was irrational.

_**THUMP.**_

She landed on the hard floor of her bedroom. Wincing slightly, she clutched her back as she attempted to stand. Marguoix was still somewhat dizzy, but not as bad as before.

The urge to vomit was taking over her stomach for the second time, and she stood to her feet and ran to the bathroom, again.

Once she was done dry heaving, as she had not eaten yet, she stood and left the bathroom, not even bothering to look in the mirror. She was just too disgusted with herself.

Now Marguoix really didn't want to go out to McDonald's. But she had to get something in her stomach, so next time her body decided she should get sick, she would have something to throw up, instead of gagging.

Oatmeal sounded good.

With a lot of sugar.

She dragged herself to her closet once again, and opted for just a simple pair of sweatpants and a shirt. It's not like anyone she knows is going to see her. She shuffled to her kitchen counter, where she kept her car keys, and slumped to her table, where her pocketbook was waiting with a few dollars in it.

_I need to go back to work. I can't just sit around the house with only a few dollars to live off of._

She sighed, while picking up the purse and slipping her running shoes on.

_Another misery filled day._

Town was busy, as usual. As she parked at the local supermarket and got out of her mid-sized Suzuki, she heard whispers of a familiar name.

_Kira._

She stopped to listen to one of the conversations.

"Oh, come on, you can't tell me you support the guy? I mean, he's a murderer! Look at all the people he's killed! How can you stand there and tell me that what he is doing is right?" shouted a balding man that looked to be in his early 40's.

"Of course I support him! How can you not? He's getting rid of criminals and keeping us safe! You are so closed-minded!" the other person, a woman in her mid 30's countered.

"He's just as bad as the criminals! Do you honestly think that murder is justified like that? You're just as sick as he is!"

"That's it! I want a divorce!" she screamed.

"Oh, come on, honey. You know I didn't mean it!" she pleaded as he chased after her running form.

_Murder? _

She thought about the man in the room and how he didn't want anyone to know the other man's identity.

_I need to find out more about this. _

She walked in the store deep in thought. Marguoix didn't even notice the greeter that said "Good afternoon, ma'am!"

She sauntered to the cereal isle, bumping into several disgruntled shoppers. Murmuring an insincere apology, she reached her destination.

_Oatmeal!_

She searched for her ideal oatmeal, and heard even more animated talk about "Kira."

"I heard L is going to be working on the case," one person said.

_L! That man!_

"Who's 'L'?" the other asked in confusion.

"He's the greatest detective that ever lived, that's who he is! I heard there hasn't been a single case he hasn't solved, and he's taken on some pretty tough cases, some even the Americans and the French and the British couldn't solve!" the first one exclaimed.

"Wow. Why does he have such a weird name? Were his parents too lazy to think up a decent name?" he laughed.

"No. No one knows his real name. He keeps it secret," he whispered.

"Wait a second, how do you know all this?"

"I know a guy who knows a guy who is friends with this other guy's sister who knows this girl who used to date him. That's how," he said proudly.

"Yeah, right. You know I don't believe you, right?"

"Believe what you want, but it's the truth. Even ask the girl who dated him! She'll tell you everything!" he said.

At this point, the whole thing seemed ridiculous. That guy probably didn't even know anyone who was even associated with this supposed "great detective."

But, the back of her mind kept telling her otherwise.

_Why else would he call himself L? That dream wasn't fake. He knew someone was there._

She tried to shake the thoughts from her mind as she walked up to the check-out lane.

"That's $4.75, miss," the old cashier managed to rasp out.

She handed the wrinkled woman the money and gathered her items.

".25 cents is your change, have a nice day," she said.

Marguoix nodded a gave a small smile. All she wanted at that moment was to sit on the couch, eating her sugar with a little bit of oatmeal and watch those boring, clichéd soap operas.

It was too bad it was such a nice day, she didn't want the day to be wasted, but what else could she do? There was no more Bradley to take walks in the park with, to kiss her, to hold her, to make love to her, to tell her that he loved her. He was gone.

The thought invaded her mind, and she felt a fresh batch of tears pool in her eyes.

Deciding it was safer to just not drive at the moment, she parked on the side of the road. Trying, to clear her head from thoughts of Bradley, she looked around at her surroundings. Her gaze lingered on a boy, about 17 years pf age, who seemed familiar.

Her eyes widened in surprise and confusion at what she saw.

The boy threw an apple over his shoulder and smiled a sinister smile. The act of throwing the apple isn't what caused her shock, it was the fact that said apple was caught in mid-air, and deteriorating, as if someone was eating it. But it was caught pretty high in the air, about eight feet above the ground. She had never heard of anyone being that tall.

She shook her head, trying to snap herself back into reality. But reality was right there, eating an apple eight feet high in mid air, walking, or flying, behind a familiar boy.

Then the boy stopped and stared at her, his eyes penetrating hers'. They just stared at each other for a brief two seconds, then something behind the boy caught his attention. He looked back up at the almost gone apple, and smiled again. That creepy, tingling smile.

The he just walked away, without a second glance at Marguoix. She turned her head straight, and stared un-blinking at the steering wheel.

_That apple just ate itself!_

She tried to remember where she had seen that boy, but to no avail. Marguoix just shook her head again and switched her gears to reverse. As she backed up, she tried to see if she could spot him again, but he wasn't there.

_How strange._

Thoughts of that boy and "L" plagued her mind during her short drive home. She had an idea of who this "L" person was, but she just couldn't put her finger on the name of the boy. Marguoix _knew _she had seen him before, she just knew it.

Sitting on her couch eating her sugar covered oatmeal, she thought some more about the odd dream, the man, and the boy. The soap opera was playing, but she wasn't paying attention.

_Kira….why is it that I've never heard of you?_

_Perhaps because you don't watch the news, rarely leave the house, and don't read the paper! _ Her mind said.

What? Her _mind _ said that? Holy crap, she was going crazy.

After her own labeling of "crazy," she decided that some sleep would do her good. Maybe she was just having a bad day. A really, _really _bad day.

Marguoix stood and walked to her kitchen, where she dumped the rest of her sugar and oatmeal into the garbage, and placed the bowl in the sink to soak.

She didn't even bother to change into a pair of pajama's as she collapsed on the bed face-down.

Breathing in a deep breath, she closed her eyes and sighed. Today was really weird, and it wasn't even over yet.

She rolled onto her back and thought of Bradley, how he used to sing her to sleep when she couldn't, or had a nightmare. She then found herself wishing he would lull her to sleep now. Marguoix sighed, once again, and tried to play the lullaby in her head.

"_Keep holding on,_

'_cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through_

_Just stay strong_

'_cause you know I'm here for you, I'm here for you_

_There's nothing you can say, _

_There's nothing you can do_

_There's no other way when it comes to the truth_

_So, keep holding on_

'_cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through…"_

How she missed those sweet words.

She finally started to doze, thinking about the lullaby.

Then, her eyes snapped open.

_Oh, my God. That boy!_

He was the boy from her first dream, the one talking to the monster. The thing eating the apple was the monster!

She gasped at her realization, and shot back up from her position.

_He's the one that's been killing everyone! He has a Shinigami! He's Kira!_

Wait, her rational side said, you don't even know for sure. You've never even heard of Kira before today. You don't know anything, it was just a dream.

_A dream that had real people? And I can't dream during the day, so what was that? I'm seeing things, and it's real!_

………………………………………………………………………………………………

A/N: Sorry for the excruciatingly long wait, I hope it was satisfactory. I'll try to keep up with the story, but it is kind of tough, what with my job, and getting sick and all. But, thanks for reading and I hope to have another chapter up as soon as possible.

Toodles!

The.epiphony

_ Keep Holding On_- Avril Lavigne.


	4. Chapter 3

Again, sorry it took forever

So sorry it's been months since I last updated, but something caught me off guard, and I lost my muse.

So…I think I might be pregnant, and if I am, I'm about two months along now. I seriously hope I'm not, since my sister just had her baby two days ago. And it almost killed my mother when she found out, because she's only 37 I think. She was extremely young when she first got pregnant, still in high school. Anyways…I still don't have my muse, but I'm going to put this out just for the people that read this story so far. Oh, and this is really just a filler kind of, but it does have some important stuff in it. Yeah.

Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or any of its characters. I do, however, own Margiuox Rainer and Bradley. So there.

Athazagoraphobia

"_When I give you this piece of paper, I don't want you to look at it yet, and don't share it with your neighbor. Each situation is different, so nobody in this room will have the same fate. When I say 'Now,' turn your paper over and quietly read it," Mrs. Finney announced to the class. She slowly walked between the isles handing out the small slips of paper, each describing a different "fate."_

_Margiuox sat in the first seat of the first row closest to the door, so she was the last person to receive a slip of paper._

"_Ok, now," Mrs. Finney said._

_Margiuox turned her paper over._

"_You just opened up your first restaurant, and opening day was great. You received a check for 10,000. How do you spend it?"_

That's it? I was expecting something a little more devastating,_ she thought to herself._

"_Jaimie, what did you get?" Mrs. Finney asked._

"_My eight-year-old daughter just got her period," Jaimie replied. The class laughed._

"_Dakota, what about you?"_

"_I just won the lottery!"_

_The class laughed some more._

"_Hannah?"_

"_I am living happily with my husband and son," _

_The class laughed again._

"_Margiuox, what does yours say?"_

"_I just got a check for 10,000 because my restaurant did so well,"_

_The class just smiled._

"_Michael, what about you?"_

"_My wife is an alcoholic,"_

_The class was silent. _

"_Alex?"_

"_My son was just killed by a drunk driver,"_

"_Vaneesha, how about you?"_

"_My husband abuses me and I am too scared to get help,"_

"_Lori?"_

"_I have a tumor,"_

"_Victoria?"_

"_I have ovarian cancer,"_

"_Rob?"_

"_I died at 23,"_

"_You see? Life is full of surprises. Nothing is ever certain. You know that saying 'Life's not fair'? Well, guess what? That is the truest thing I know. Life is not fair. Just like love is just a verb. I am here to teach you that nothing is just going to be handed to you, there is going to be a lot of hard work in your life, and it's your choice of whether or not you decide you are going to make something of yourself. It starts now, but let me tell you something, you will be disappointed. There are some things you will never be able to achieve. I'm telling you that right now," Mrs. Finney said._

_Margiuox thought long and hard about that. She already knew that, of course, life wasn't fair. She had already learned that a long time ago. But to hear someone else say. . . it just made it sound so. . . finale. Like there wasn't anything else to life. It was just full of unfairness. Margiuox didn't like it at all._

_Life is not fair._

Life is not fair.

Of course.

Psychology class, junior year.

She remembered it all too well. The teasing, the beating, the cursing, the everything. The one reason she moved to Japan was to run away from her parents, her school, her peers, everything. She hated it with every little ounce of anything that she had.

She moved here with Bradley. He helped her through everything, helped her clean the cuts, helped her block out the screaming, and helped her hide the bruises. All she did was love him, but she never helped him.

_How could I have been so stupid? So blind?_

It's been almost two months, and each day felt just as bad as the one before.

She woke up from yet another disturbing dream, this time there were more people, it looked like a bunch of police officers. But Margiuox just tuned them out. It was none of her business, and she didn't even know if what she thought or saw, for that matter, was real. It couldn't be. She didn't know the people, so it wasn't a flashback, she didn't watch any crime detective shows, so it couldn't have been that, and she had a great imagination, so it could be just something her head was making up.

Maybe.

There was no way she could prove that boy was Kira. No way. And there was no way she could prove that man was L, or that he was trying to solve the murder case.

No way.

She sighed to herself while stretching. That had been a long sleep, it felt like. She glanced at the clock.

1:21 pm.

It's not _that _late.

She did a double-take.

_1:21 pm?! I was supposed to be at work two hours ago!_

She jumped out of bed and ran to her closet, searching for anything that might look at least slightly business-like.

_Finally!_

She grabbed a plain gray suit and a white blouse to go with it and hurriedly got dressed. After she decided she looked halfway decent, she grabbed her cell phone and checked to see if they had called her, and sure enough, there were at least twelve missed calls and three voice messages.

"Dammit," she cursed silently to herself.

"_Ms. Rainer, if you are not already aware, you are now thirty minutes late, we just wanted to know if you were alright, and if you're going to make it to work today. Call back as soon as possible, please. Thank you."_

"_Ms. Rainer, it has now been an hour, please let us know if you are going to come in, you have appointments."_

"_We are assuming you are not coming in today, seeing as you are now two-and-a-half hours late, we understand completely, but next time please call in advance to let us know if you are well enough to work. We have canceled all of your appointments for today, so there is no need to cancel them yourself. Please get some rest and let us know when you are well enough to come back. Thank you, have a nice day."_

"Dammit!" she cursed loudly to herself, as she kicked the side of her bed.

_Great, now the people at work think I'm a total nutcase! God, can this day get any worse?!_

Apparently, it could.

She slumped down onto her couch, not bothering to move at all. What was the point? She already wasn't expected at work, she had already done the grocery shopping for the week, and her car didn't need any gas. There was absolutely nothing to do.

Margiuox reached for the remote to the television and turned it on. She flipped through the channels, finding nothing of interest, and stopped at a local news channel.

"_Reports say the nation-wide crime rate has gone down almost 70, leaving the disturbing question, 'Is what Kira is doing, killing criminals, right or wrong?' Now let's head over to Juu with the weather. . ."_

She thought about this for a while. A decreased crime rate? Maybe what Kira is doing _is _right. But they are people too. They have families, and friends, and everything a normal person has, don't they? After all, murder is murder, no matter how you look at it, it's still taking someone else's life away without a second thought. It's _not _right.

But why would someone so seemingly ordinary decide to start killing off criminals in the first place? _How _could they start? One can't just give someone they've possibly never met before a heart attack, it's physically impossible. It has to be a coincidence or something.

But . . . those dreams. Who was that boy with the apple? Who was that slouching man?

_I've never met either of them before, yet I seem to know them, their names and their faces. Light and L. Is it some coincidence that after I have the dream about Light, that I see him on the street? Or that after I had the dream about L, that I hear about him in the grocery store? Why is this happening? Why aren't these dreams stopping? Who are they?_

She felt a headache coming on, so she got up from the couch and walked into her small kitchen, where the medicine cabinet was. Grabbing a bottle of Tylenol, she read the warning and side-affects label, hoping that drowsiness or odd dreams wasn't part of the list.

She took two, then another to be sure her headache would go away, and pondered about Light some more.

_He seems to be a normal kid on the outside, but once he gets that notebook out, he's completely different. It's like he has a split personality, but a _chosen _split personality. Hmm. He sees what he wants to see; the people he's killed as nothing but criminals, who have no life whatsoever, and are nothing but evil. To decide to take control of the "situation", he must have a strong superiority complex, and of course he would need help with this, he can't do it alone, so he'll have to had acquired _something _of supernatural abilities, quite possibly the thing that was eating the apple. Judging from the way he so publicly gave the monster an apple, he thinks he's invincible, and nothing an stop him from his ultimate goal, which I have yet to confirm but have a vague idea. It seems like he wants everyone else to think that he is just an innocent kid, not involved in anything, and it's working. He knows what he's doing. _

_L, on the other hand, is very secretive, judging from the way his "room" was set up, it didn't seem to have any windows or any outside light, or anything that gave away his location. He seems to prefer to work alone, except for his computer friend, Watari. He thinks a lot to himself, and doesn't reveal what he's thinking to anyone, and likes to "surprise" them, so to speak, with what he's thinking. Somewhat cocky, but also a genius. _

She sighed. The analysis of the people in her dreams helped a little, but not as much as she had hope. _Maybe I should see somebody about what I know, I might be able to help._

It was going to take a lot of research and questions, but Margiuox was determined to find out exactly where this detective "L" was, maybe it would help satiate her dreams.

They really were a headache.

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Sorry it took forever, but yeah…a lot has been going on, and…life is just frustrating.


End file.
